I did not get a chance to write about an unfortunate and painful eating experience I had while in Paris the other day, and by God I think I ought to remedy this omission.
After coming back to my hotel from the Grenelle market the other day, I decided to go and treat myself to lunch at
Bouillon Chartier, one of the very last Parisian Belle Époque brasseries.... The decor is stunning, the opinions about the food are all over the place, and the service reputably "Parisian".
After a short métro ride, I found myself in front of Chartier's doors, where two very jovial hosts quickly ushered me in... Although the place is very vast, I was shown to a "two top", a table for two which already occupied by a stern looking gentleman who seemed to be well underway with his lunch... When I tried to protest to the host and asked for a table by myself, he smirked at me and said "
ici Monsieur, on partage tout!!!" (In this place, Sir, one shares everything).My table "companion" looked as though he had just buried his entire family and the last thing I wanted was to include him in my lunch adventure Not wanting to start an unpleasant debate about breathing room and vital space however, I took my seat and started to look at the menu on the table.
What followed is quite possibly one of the most awful lunches I have EVER had in Paris. Not only was the food barely edible, it was just slammed on the plates with no effort in presentation whatsoever, the service was pushy, distant, obnoxious and borderline rude:
"C'est tout ce que vous prenez Monsieur?" (is that ALL you're having Monsieur?). I soon realized that Chartier, although being a venerable Parisian institution, prefers to fill up with tourists and curious walk in customers rather than with faithful, local, neighborhood customers.... It is so much easier to abuse those who will be sure never to return!!!
The high note of my lunch was going to be an allegedly homemade duck confit, garnished with duck fat roasted potatoes. Since we too at the Paris make and serve our own , albeit with Puy French green lentils, I was very excited and looking forward to compare the two, apples to apples. Just like the service and the rest of the courses, the duck was an absolute abortion, dry and mutilated, topped with melted compound garlic/parsley butter. My potatoes had apparently spent the whole morning hanging out in the kitchen and were cold in the center.... I could not finish eating what was on my plate..... I quickly finished my baby carafe of rosé however, settled my bill and got out of this place as fast as I could.
As I was riding back to my hotel I could not help to think how sad it is that a place like this allows bad food and service to keep its customers from coming back for seconds.... then again, what do I know???? Maybe the Parisian restaurateurs have not heard that there is a recession out there....
I came back to Utah the following day, and of course needed to go back to work at The Paris. My dad came to visit and stayed a few days with us, and the night before he left to go back home, I organized a little apéritif which was meant to be a succession of small plates, mini foie gras tartines, cheeses and heirloom tomatoes from our garden. Giancarlo graced the house with his presence. Eric arrived a bit later and surprised us with duck confits from the restaurant... Although we were at my house and the food had been packed in to-go containers, we quickly reheated the duck and presented it on plates..... The confits were a smash hit, more especialy with my Dad, who normally does not eat them and had not had one in Eons,after having an unfortunate duck experience like mine at Chartier. In any case he had not enjoyed a confit since he came to this country about a decade ago.... The meat was wonderfully cooked, crispy on the outside and yet succulent, juicy and so tender on the inside. Every bite was a little piece of taste wonder; the crisped duck flavor of course, but also the sea salt, the thyme, the wonderful earthy taste of French green lentils from Le Puy, studded with tiny dices of carrots and beets. No cold, greasy potato sadness here, but a few slices of amazingly fragrant Cherokee Purple Heirloom tomatoes from our garden and a refreshing sprig of watercress.
Now, check out the pictures and tell me which duck you would rather eat and where.... The one in Paris at Chartier, or the one from The Paris, Utah???? Paris France with a plethora of obnoxious servers, a lousy service, a 19.6% sales tax and a forced 15% service charge, or at home, surrounded by friends and family? I think I just will let the pictures speak for themselves.....
After spending a fantastic evening and savoring every morsel of duck in my plate I must once conclude that even reheated at my house, the food we produce at the Paris utterly blows away
that of the competition anytime, on any given day and despite the jabs of idiotic, self proclaimed Salt Lake City food critics and other "connoisseurs" who claim that everything in Paris is so much better..... If only they traveled and ate there as much as I and Eric do.....
